AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The men grinned and shuffled into the throne room. Seveh was the last to leave, and he gave Desfan a final approving nod before following his crew.
Avao remained with them, a frown on his face as he looked at Karim. “What’s wrong with your leg?”
“Nothing,” Karim said.
Avao looked to Desfan, and he felt compelled to answer. “He got hit with a crossbow bolt last night.”
Karim glared. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Concern flooded Avao’s face, but before he could say anything, Serai Yahri stepped out of the throne room. She wore her ceremonial council robes and the green fabric shimmered with gold thread. Her cane tapped the stone floor as she approached. “Avao,” she greeted, her voice uncharacteristically warm.
“Amna,” he returned with unmistakable affection, along with a slight bow.
Karim blinked.
Desfan’s mouth twitched.
Yahri looked to Desfan. “We’re running behind. Finish your greetings quickly.”
He nodded, because arguing with Yahri wasn’t worth it.
Yahri turned to Avao. “Will you escort me?”
“It would be my honor.” He stepped forward, though he did pause beside Desfan. His voice was a low whisper as he asked, “Is he all right?”
“He will be,” Desfan returned, just as quietly.
Avao’s mouth thinned, but he let it go. Then his voice dropped further. “I would speak to you privately when you have a free moment. Without Karim.”
Desfan’s eyebrows pulled together, curiosity pricking him. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” Avao turned to Yahri and offered his arm.
As they walked away, Karim frowned at Desfan. “What were you whispering about?”
“I’m not sure.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, since Avao had told him nothing.
Before Karim could press, the next person stepped forward to greet Desfan.
The throne room was filled near to bursting. The glowing sun slanted through the tall windows that were opened to the sea breeze and the wraparound balcony that edged the elegant room.
The coronation ritual was long, and Desfan’s mind wandered. Not aimlessly, though. As he stood before the crowded throne room, listening to Yahri recite the ceremonial words, he felt the stirrings of old doubts and fears. He remembered past mistakes and shames.
He wasn’t worthy to wear his father’s crown. He was a failure. A pretender.
He’d been focused on so many other things leading up to this moment, he hadn’t actually considered what he was about to do. He was about to swear oaths to Mortise. He was about to sit on that throne, until the day he died. Every breath he took for the rest of his life would be as the serjan. Everyone in this room would be looking to him. War was coming, and he would be expected to lead, to have all the right answers. And if he failed, people would die. Fates, even if hesucceeded, people would die. The magnitude of what he was about to do terrified him.
Then he looked out over the room. He saw Avao. Razan. Seveh, and the rest of his old crew. He saw Serene, watching him with quiet confidence. He thought of Imara, who believed in him.
None of them viewed him with fear or doubt. All he saw was hope, pride, and joy.
Karim stood with him, closer than any bodyguard probably ever had to a serjah about to be crowned Serjan. Yahri stood before Desfan, speaking with surprising gentleness.
In that moment, Desfan felt a warmth so intense, it brought tears to his eyes. He felt his father standing with him. He could feel his mother, almost as if she’d taken his hand. And Tally was there, and even Mia, though he knew she was not lost to him in the same way. His family surrounded him, their presence filling the room.
He was not alone.
When Yahri asked if he would serve his people unfailingly, he swore he would.
